


in a moment

by jyancity



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Calypso Au, Calypso!Hyuck, Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Demigod!Mark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Unbetaed we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24017950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jyancity/pseuds/jyancity
Summary: Donghyuck is tending to his garden when the sea shifts, tumbling something more than just seashells and driftwood onto his shore.(In which Donghyuck is paying his penance to the gods, caring for injured demigods that wash up on his shore.)
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 56
Kudos: 358





	in a moment

**Author's Note:**

> I... can't believe this fic is done. I've been working on this monster for months, gave up on it in December, and just finished the final quarter of it in one night.
> 
> This is my first fic for NCT, and my first time uploading to the archive, so I hope everything is up to par.
> 
> I just wanna say a quick shout out to Xin. Thanks for your support while I wrote this. And by support I mean listening to me bitch about it at three in the morning. I love you <3
> 
> Title reference: [Tenerife Sea by Ed Sheeran](https://youtube.com/watch?v=cHTEGQbtP1I%E2%80%9D%20rel=)

Donghyuck is tending to his garden when the sea shifts, tumbling something more than just seashells and driftwood onto his shore.

“I think we have company.” He whispers to the celery as he stands, brushing the dirt from his tunic. The dirt below his sandals becomes sand as he makes his way to the beach. His island isn’t large by any means, and he only needs to walk the perimeter of its shores for a minute before he finds him.

“Oh, my.” He breathes, rushing to his side. The hero is pale, contrasted by his dark hair and the bruises that mar almost every visible inch of his body. There’s a nasty scrape running the length of one of his prominent cheekbones, and one of his eyes is swollen and black. He’s wearing clothing like none that Donghyuck had seen before, a short sleeved orange tunic with strange lettering on the chest, and dark, sturdy fabric on his legs. The rips on his knees reveal bruises, and Donghyuck wonders if the garment was torn in battle. It seems a strange mode of attack, going for both knees rather than for any vital organs, but he supposes it’s been too long since he’s engaged in battle to really say anything about anyone’s fighting strategies. 

Gently, Donghyuck scoops the hero up, careful to cradle his head on his shoulder, carrying him back to his hut. He’s actually slightly taller than Donghyuck, which proves a bit awkward, but he manages it, laying the boy down on his cot. Not for the first time, Donghyuck wishes the tides would send him a second cot for his unending supply of visitors, but that prayer had so far gone unanswered. The hero doesn’t stir once, and Donghyuck huffs in annoyance as he begins the work of removing the hero’s tunic. As he pulls at the hem, he realizes that the side of the garment is indeed mottled red from his bleeding side. It doesn’t look like any vital organs are injured, but it’s still going to be a bitch to clean out and mend. At least the boy shows no signs of waking anytime soon.

“Let’s get you better, shall we?” He hums, mostly to himself, as he begins to rummage through his herb kit. The boy sleeps on.

☼

The hero awakens with a cry nearly two days after washing up on Donghyuck’s beach like a dead fish. This time, Donghyuck is collecting eggs from the chicken coop, and one of the hens is so startled by his shouts that she drops an egg where she stands. Donghyuck watches it splat against a rock, frowning at the lost food.

The curtained entrance to his hut flies open as the dark haired boy stumbles out into the daylight, squinting at the harsh transition from the dark he had been cocooned in for days. Donghyuck sees the moment he spots him, watches as his hand flies to the place his sword would be, had he not taken care to hide his weapon and its sheath as soon as he finished healing the boy.

“Who are you?” The young hero demands in a voice that valiantly attempts to sound intimidating, “And where have you taken me?”

“ _Taken_ you?” it surprises a laugh out of the nymph, who sets down his basket on the off chance the hero decides to attack him. He’s not losing another egg to this young fool.

“I know this is a trap.” The boy scowls, taking a step back as Donghyuck approaches him. “You’re working on behalf of the underworld, aren’t you? To stop me on my quest!”

“You stopped your own quest by sleeping through two full days of it, hero.” Donghyuck scoffs, smiling smugly as the boy’s back meets the wall of his hut. Panic flashes through his eyes as he realizes he’s trapped, but soon turns into confusion as Donghyuck breezes past him and through the curtained doorway.

“T-two days?” The hero pulls back the curtain, moving to lean against the doorway when he winces, hand flying to his side.

“Yes, two days. Now, come here and sit down before you tear the stitches I so gracefully applied.” Donghyuck gestures for him to make himself comfortable on the cot. The boy hesitates, and Donghyuck huffs before walking over and pulling him into the hut by the wrist. “If I had wanted to kill you, hero, I would have done it while you slept in _my bed_ for two days. If that’s not enough to convince you, then I suppose you’re welcome to heal yourself.”

The boy, though reluctant, blessedly follows him, sitting on the cot easily enough. The suspicion in his eyes melts away slowly but surely as Donghyuck crushes herbs and changes his bandages, checking on the neat stitches in his side before administering a pain-relieving poultice to the area. He sits quietly, and while Donghyuck certainly _wants_ to chatter away, uncomfortable with the silence, he gets the sense that this boy needs quiet in order to come to terms with the situation. 

“I’m sorry.” He finally says, quieter than before. Donghyuck nearly misses it over the grinding of his mortar and pestle. He sets the instruments down, turning to see the boy’s sheepish expression. “I, um, I’m not used to kindness from strangers, I suppose. Normally, waking up on a beautiful island with a bea— I mean, a supernatural being, I’ve learned to be wary of things that seem too good to be true. Thank you for caring for me.”

“You’re welcome.” Donghyuck nods, suppressing a smile, “There wasn’t much else I could do, aside from just rolling you back into the ocean.”

“I appreciate you not doing that, then.” The hero laughs, and Donghyuck’s heart swoops in a way that he knows spells danger. “My name is Mark, by the way.”

“Donghyuck.” He replies, swallowing down the wellspring of dread building inside of him. “Welcome to Ogygia.”

☼

Things are awkward, to say the least. Mark can’t exactly help out a lot, despite his repeated offers, because Donghyuck would hate to have to resew his stitches without the aid of his favorite local anesthetic, Post-Battle Exhaustion. Instead, the hero sits by wherever Donghyuck is working, fidgeting and asking questions. Donghyuck isn’t bothered by it, happy for the company. The gods hadn’t sent anyone to Ogygia in longer than he cared to remember.

“How do you leave this island?” Mark asks, swinging his legs where he’s perched on the tree stump by Donghyuck’s garden. He had cut down the oak long ago, it had blocked the sun from reaching his vegetables. “I didn’t see a boat anywhere, but you do have a dock. Did you build that?”

“No, it came with the island.” Donghyuck sighs, setting down his spade and gesturing for the canteen by Mark’s feet. The hero scrambles for it, eager to be of help. “And as for leaving the island, well, I don’t do that often.” _Or at all._

“Well, once I heal, I have to return to my quest.” Mark’s eyes are on the horizon, where the misty, bottle-green sea meets the cerulean sky. Donghyuck ignores the tiny seed of hurt burying itself in the soil of his heart. “I’m sure my friends are worried.”

“Is there a time limit on your quest?” Donghyuck asks, forcing the words past the lump in his throat. He holds the canteen back out to Mark, who blinks away the glassy distance in his eyes before taking it. He takes a swig himself before fastening the cap back on, and Donghyuck has to redirect his own gaze from the droplet that slides down his Adam's apple.

“No, there’s no time limit, but it’s best if we get things sorted out sooner rather than later.” Mark frowns, setting the canteen back down by the stump’s dead roots.

“Well, it’s going to take me a while to fashion you a raft, but you’re nowhere near ready to be rushing off into battle. Don’t try to convince me otherwise,” Donghyuck stops the hero as he inhales to protest, “I’m not stupid, but you are. You need to heal before jumping back into the hero thing, so we’ve got some time.” Donghyuck unearths a couple of potatoes, holding them out to the mortal. “Until then, how about I get the water from the well and you can rinse these off?”

“I can get the water.” He frowns, clearly bothered by the implication that he lacks strength. “My arms aren’t broken.”

“Yes, but they’re attached to your sides, one of which is being held together with string.” Donghyuck pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can help more as you heal, but you won’t heal if you insist on doing too much too soon.”

Mark, of course, doesn’t listen. As Donghyuck is about to pull the bucket from the well, he swoops in, only to dump water over the both of them and the surrounding area. The mortal is horrified.

“I was trying to help, man, I swear. I am so sorry.” He stammers, face turning bright red. “I’ll get another bucket—!” He’s immediately cut off by a handful of mud splatting against his cheek.

“Try to keep the mud out of your sutures while I drag you through it.” Donghyuck grins, slinging another handful that lands in his glossy black hair. Mark blinks, shocked for a moment, before scooping up his own handful of mud by the overturned bucket.

“Oh, Donghyuck,” and _oh_ , even in jest, Donghyuck’s heart burns at the way Mark’s lips look while saying his name. “You may have started this war, but I _will_ end it.”

The mud fight, in reality, ends in a draw, when Mark is laughing so hard that he has to clutch at his stitches, and Donghyuck is kneeling over his chest, smearing mud all over the other’s face. He eventually falls to the side, laughing with him, while his traitorous heart yearns for something he knows he cannot have.

☼

Against Donghyuck’s better judgment, it becomes as easy as breathing from there on out. Despite his best efforts, Donghyuck comes to enjoy the easy companionship Mark offers. Days become brighter the more he gets to know about the demigod, eldest son of a single mother. It makes sense that he is loath to sit around doing nothing while he watches Donghyuck work.

“My mom didn’t have a lot of help when I was little, and then when she married my step-dad and Jisung came along, I got used to helping out. I guess I just hate not lending a hand when I can.” He admits, stirring the pot as Donghyuck directed him to, watching as the healer chops herbs and throws them into the stew.

“Did you think your step-father was—?” Donghyuck begins.

“Gods, no!” Mark laughs, “I was five when they met and started dating, so I definitely knew he wasn’t my dad. Mom just always told me that my father had died. So you can imagine my shock when it turned out that my dad was very much alive, and had been for millennia. He was just… too busy being a god.”

“Let me guess.” Donghyuck appraises him, tapping his chin as he takes in the other from top to bottom. “Son of Hermes?”

“Apollo, actually.” He scratches his neck. “I guess I take after my mom more, but I do love music. I’m not big on archery, but I’m good at it.”

“Is your mother a musician as well?” If Donghyuck knows anything about the gods, she must be, and a brilliant one at that.

“She’s a cellist.” Mark confirms his thoughts, “She plays for the Vancouver orchestra.”

“And are you a cellist as well?” Donghyuck sprinkles some celery leaves into the soup, and Mark continues stirring. Truthfully, the soup doesn’t need to be stirred continuously, but if it makes him feel helpful, Donghyuck won’t bar him from it.

“Actually, I’m a rapper.” he replies.

“Oh, interesting.” Donghyuck stares down at the cutting board before sliding a sideways glance toward the demigod. “How do you play a rap?”

Mark’s eyes widen, meeting Donghyuck’s in a moment of confusion before realization dawns and he’s laughing. Donghyuck tries not to pout, but he can’t help it after a good minute of nothing but laughter at him. Mark’s laugh is loud enough to wake the hens, who are normally fast asleep by sundown. They begin clucking noisily in the coop. Donghyuck finally smacks his thigh, pointing at the soup ladle settled against the side of the pot.

“Keep stirring, dummy.” He grumbles, chopping the carrots with misdirected aggression.

“I’m— oh god, I’m sorry, Hyuck. It’s not an instrument, but I get why you thought that.” The nickname sends a jolt of warmth up his spine as Mark’s hand rubs his shoulder, the other moving back to the ladle. “I just forgot that you wouldn’t know what rap is. It’s a relatively new style of music, less singing and more spoken poetry.”

“So you’re a bard.” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow.

“No, that’s just spoken poetry with music.” Mark shakes his head. “Rap has a beat behind it.”

“All music has a beat, otherwise it’s just noise.” He replies airily, chopping the carrots with a little less ire now. “This rap really isn’t as new as you seem to think. When I was young, bards were all we had.”

“It’s weird that you look younger than me but talk like a grandpa.” Mark’s nose wrinkles. Donghyuck smacks his thigh again. “Ow!”

“I’m hardly a grandpa.” Donghyuck retorts haughtily. “I’ll have you know I’m _very_ young for a nymph.”

“How old are you, then?” Mark asks, not missing the way Donghyuck stiffens. “Oh. So you’re _old_ then, huh?”

“I thought I told you to keep stirring.” He collects the knife and cutting board, sliding the rest of the vegetables into the soup. “Do you want some water? I’m going to get some water.” 

Donghyuck is disappointed to find that the walk to the well does little to regather his wits, and for a brief moment, he stares into the depths of the hole wondering if Mark would notice if he swan-dived into it. Knowing his luck, he’d just get stuck halfway down and have to ask Mark to help him out. He settles for splashing some water on his face, ladling the rest into a couple of canteens, and heading back to the fire.

Mark is still stirring dutifully, but with a contemplative expression on his face. Donghyuck hands him one of the filled canteens, taking the ladle from him in order to start serving their dinner into wooden bowls he had made himself. Being alone most of the time allowed for the development of dumb hobbies like wittling.

“It’s okay if you _are_ older, you know.” Mark states out of nowhere, startling Donghyuck. “It doesn’t freak me out. I mean, it freaks me out a _little_ because I think maybe I inherited a tendency to develop crushes on immortals from my mom, but it doesn’t really bother me that much.”

“What’s a crush?” Donghyuck blinks.

“Nothing. It’s stupid. Uh.” The demigod turns bright red, turning his full attention toward shoveling his dinner down his throat as quickly as possible. “This is good soup, Hyuck. You should try it!”

The nymph decides to set his suspicion to the side for now, not pushing the mortal further on the subject. The soup _is_ good, after all, and the company is better.

☼

With each passing day, Mark becomes closer and closer to being healed enough to leave. Donghyuck is coming to realize with unfortunate clarity that it might not come before he breaks yet another one of his boundaries. In the battle against his heart, he’s becoming more and more resigned to losing, which is a bad sign.

“Tell me about yourself,” the firelight casts long shadows where Mark’s eyelashes rest against his high cheekbones. The sun had set an hour ago, while they had finished their dinner, but they were staying up talking. “I’ve been here for weeks and I feel like I don’t know all that much about you.”

“You’ve been here for ten days at the most, I wouldn’t say you’ve been here _weeks_.” Donghyuck snorts.

“Stop deflecting.” Mark’s nose scrunches, and Donghuck’s traitorous heart skips a beat.

“There’s nothing much to tell.” Donghyuck smiles, but he can’t help the bitterness that rolls around his mouth alongside the words. “I grew up near the sea. I was the eldest of the four most mischievous and chaotic southern sea nymphs. We were reckless, but I loved my siblings dearly.”

“How did you come to be here? On this island?” He can tell that the hero is reluctant to pry, but the curiosity has been building all this time, it must be killing him.

“My younger sister angered the gods.” Donghyuck pokes the fire, looks into it until the flames are burned into his eyelids when he blinks. “She ‘stole’ the heart of a demigod hero who was the beloved of the goddess of love. If we’re being honest, the goddess never stood a chance, that hero and my sister were _fated_. Regardless, the gods were going to punish her… and I couldn’t let that happen. Dongyeon was so young, and so in love with the idea of love. So was I, but I was older. It was my job to protect her.”

“So what happened?” Mark is leaning in, eyes all aglow in the firelight.

“It was simple.” Donghyuck shrugs, “I sent her and her hero into hiding. For all I know, she may still be there, although surely her hero is long gone by now. I dressed up as her, wig and all. She even gave me this pendant she always wore,” He pulled the chain from his tunic, the silver token glowing in the firelight, “just to further sell it. When her sentencing came, it was an immediate banishment. As soon as the gavel hit, I was here. Here I have been ever since. Here I will remain until the end of time.”

“The gods never realized?” He resists the urge to smooth out the crease between the hero’s eyebrows. He looks like a puppy when he’s confused, Donghyuck had come to notice. Donghyuck noticed many things about Mark.

“Oh, they figured it out soon enough, but they couldn’t find my sister, so as long as _someone_ served punishment, the goddess of love was appeased.” Donghyuck snorts derisively. “Either way, I’m stuck here.”

“You can’t leave?” Mark frowns.

“Nope.” Donghyuck sets down the fire poker, folding his hands in his lap. “I’ve built so many rafts, only to overturn and wash up here again.”

“Am I—?” Mark’s voice is horrified, and Donghyuck rushes to console him despite the widening fissure in his chest.

“No, nobody but me is cursed to stay here. I promise.” Donghyuck shakes his head. “You _will_ leave here when you’re healed.”

“Oh.” Mark looked down at Donghyuck’s hand on his thigh. Donghyuck’s face burns as he pulls away, but Mark catches his wrist, bringing it back to his lap. He flips it over, looking at the palm, tracing the lines in a way that makes goosebumps rise on the nymph’s arms.

“Do you regret it?” Mark’s expression wasn’t pitying. If anything, it was mixed admiration and deep sadness. Donghyuck wasn’t a fan of the sadness, not on his behalf.

“Not even for a moment.” He replies, no longer shocked by the honesty in his own words. “Nobody deserves to be punished for who they love. She would have done the same for me were the roles reversed.” The crackling of the fire fills the night air, the stars twinkling overhead. An unnamed sadness settles within him again, and while it’s not unfamiliar, it’s unwelcome. He truly _doesn’t_ regret it, but sitting here with Mark, he wishes things were different. The air shifts as the hero takes a deep breath, grabbing Donghyuck’s hand.

“You are so _good_ , Donghyuck.” Mark finally says, interlocking their fingers. “You’re a good older brother, and you’re a good friend, and I will get you off this island. I swear on my honor as a hero, I will.”

“You’re speaking nonsense.” Donghyuck shakes his head. This is not the first time Donghyuck has heard this promise, after all. It’s just the first time he’s heard it from this particular boy. Mark sets his jaw, choosing instead to hold Donghyuck’s hand just a little tighter.

When they call it a night, Donghyuck casts a longing glance toward the cot before making for the pile of blankets on the ground he’s been calling his bed for the last few days.

“You know,” Mark scuffs his foot against the floor, looking at Donghyuck’s sleeping arrangement with a measure of embarrassment, “I can switch with you. This is _your_ bed, you know. I feel bad putting you out like this.”

“Absolutely not,” Donghyuck frowns, crossing his arms and sitting on the ground. He tries not to visibly wince as his body cries out, sore and bruised, “you’re still injured, you can’t sleep on the ground.”

“Well, then maybe we can share the cot.” Mark suggests, and even in the dark, Donghyuck doesn’t miss the way his face turns pink.

“A-are you sure?” Donghyuck makes a valiant effort to keep the raw desire for a soft surface out of his voice, “I’m really okay—!”

“No you’re not, don’t think I can’t see the way you wake up sore every morning.” Mark turns down the covers, gesturing for the nymph to go ahead, “There’s enough room for both of us, so as long as you’re okay with it…”

“Thank you.” Donghyuck takes his pillow, dusting it off before laying it beside the wall. He slides between the covers, melts into the way the mattress hugs him, soothing his sore spots.

“Don’t mention it.” Mark joins him, and the two of them squish shoulder to shoulder in order to fit, but it works. 

“Is this okay?” He asks. Donghyuck’s poor, fractured heart shudders as he slides into the hero’s embrace.

“Yes.” He lies, pressing his face into the crook of Mark’s neck.

Before he knows it, Donghyuck is fast asleep. It isn’t until he wakes up, wrapped in Mark’s arms and held tight to his chest, that he realizes he’s made yet another misstep.

☼

Days on the island are more meaningful with Mark’s presence. Even more than with anyone who has come to stay on Ogygia, Donghyuck grudgingly admits to himself. It’s the way the hero wants to help, the way he seems to anticipate Donghyuck’s requests and fulfills them before he needs to even say a word.

“Thirsty?” The sun-kissed arm offering the canteen was much paler when it had first washed up on the shores, but surely with each day, it was becoming the color of warm honey. Donghyuck takes the water, tipping his head back to guzzle for a moment.

“How did you know?” He gasps, having emptied half the canteen in one go.

“You’ve been working out here for a while,” Mark shrugs, kneeling beside him in the garden and taking up the extra spade, “I figured you were too focussed on your plant children to notice you were dehydrating.”

“Huh.” Donghyuck’s cheeks warm traitorously, and he tilts the canteen into his cupped palm to splash some water on his face. It helps cool him down, but does little to dispel the color in his face if the pleased glint in Mark’s eye is anything to go by. “Should we have lunch?”

“Two steps ahead of you.” Mark grins, scratching the back of his neck, and Donghyuck does _not_ spare a glance at the way his arm muscles flex. “I actually just finished making lunch, if you’re hungry right now?”

Donghyuck watches as Mark moves to his feet with swift grace, holding a hand out to him where he kneels in the garden. The sun is glinting off Mark’s face, his eyelashes casting shadows down his cheeks, highlighting the elegant slope of his nose, the way his smile quirks to the side. Donghyuck knows this feeling, knows it with a familiar, dreadful certainty, that this is the moment that will haunt him for years to come. This is the moment he recognizes that he has, once again, run past the line he had drawn so carefully around the borders of his heart. Being the fool that he is, he can’t even muster the will to hate himself, because, gods help him, he’s fallen in love with this hero.

He’s fallen in love with Mark Lee, and that means the moment to part is fast approaching.

“Hyuck?” Mark’s smile falters, dims, as he realizes something is off. Donghyuck startles, “Something wrong?”

“No.” He lies, forcing a smile. It does the trick, if the tension fleeing Mark’s posture is any indicator, “Nothing at all. Let’s eat.”

☼

Donghyuck prizes his medicinal abilities, considers it one of the qualities he’s most proud of, really. His honor as a healer is of deep value to him, so it is with great shame that he finally admits a truth that he has put off for a day or two longer than truly necessary.

“It’s time to take out your stitches.” Donghyuck announces, pulling out a small pair of medical shears. Mark blinks down at him in shock.

“Already?” He glances down at his wound before looking back to the nymph. “Are you sure?”

“If we leave them in any longer, they’ll hurt to take out.” Donghyuck snips at the string. In all honesty, they should have come out yesterday, but he wasn’t exactly eager to let Mark go so soon.

“Oh.” Mark looks at his hands, and Donghyuck knows that he’s contemplating _something_ , and if his heart is going to break anyway, he might as well throw caution to the wind.

“You’re thinking too hard, I can hear it.” He comments dryly, continuing to pull at the string until it’s completely removed. “Tell me.”

“Well,” Mark worries a plush, rosy lip between his teeth, and Donghyuck definitely doesn’t stare at it. “I guess I’m conflicted.”

“About?” Donghyuck’s mouth goes dry.

“I know I need to go back.” Mark nods, still not meeting Donghyuck’s eyes. “It’s the right thing to do, I know I’m needed. I know my friends are probably worried about me, or even grieving over me. I know my mom—” His voice cracks, but he pushes on, “I know my mom is missing me. But, gods help me, Donghyuck, I can’t stand the thought of leaving here. Leaving _you._ ”

An ocean breeze floats through the doorway, past the curtain that’s tied out of the way, knocking flat into Donghyuck’s back and pushing him the few inches he needs in order to press his lips to Mark’s. He feels a calloused palm cup his cheek, tilting his face to slant their mouths against each other, deepening the kiss. The nymph takes a moment to pity his battered heart, how it sparks with hope in a way his mind knows better than to dream of. This internal battle, the push and pull of joy and sorrow, is the final straw. He pulls back forcefully, pressing himself against the wall of the hut, out of Mark’s grasp.

“We can’t do this.” Donghyuck admits, pulling away from the warmth of Mark’s lips. The hero looks at him, hurt evident in his eyes.

“Wha— Hyuck, why?” He frowns, moving to follow, halting immediately at the way Donghyuck flinches.

“Because you’re leaving.” Donghyuck shrinks into himself, wrapping his arms around his chest. His heart is racing, but not as fast as his mind. Memories come unbidden, of charming smiles and kind eyes and dimples, of so many heroes before this one who also stole his heart, only to leave with it when something else pulled them from Donghyuck’s arms. 

“Hyuck—! Shit, baby don’t cry.” Mark darts out, pulling him to his chest just as he feels himself really fall apart. His embrace is so tight, and Donghyuck wishes it were enough to bind them to each other for good. He wishes he didn’t know how this would end. “I’m not leaving right now.”

“But eventually, you will.” Donghyuck sobs, his fingers digging into Mark’s back. The hero takes a breath, the counterargument on the tip of his tongue, but Donghyuck stops him. “Don’t make me any promises. You can’t keep it, and I won’t believe you, anyway.”

“That’s not for you to decide—!”

“It’s not for you to decide, either!” Donghyuck pushes against Mark’s chest, until the hero sits back on his knees in front of the weeping nymph. “There’s a part of my curse that I didn’t tell you. I was hoping it wouldn’t come true this time, but that was clearly foolish of me to think it hadn’t already come true the moment I saw you lying in the sand.”

“What is it?” Mark grasps his shaking hands, a steady beacon on a storming sea.

“When the gods of olympus sentenced me to this island, they were willing to leave it at a simple banishment, but the goddess of _love_ ,” he spits the word, loathes how it tastes like venom to him now, “decided that this wasn’t severe enough. The punishment had to match the crime, you see.”

“What’s more severe than sticking you in the middle of nowhere alone?” The hero shakes his head. He wipes at the tears coursing down Donghyuck’s face, 

“Sending me battered heroes to heal, making sure they’re always someone I will fall in love with, but never enough to make them stay.” Donghyuck chokes out. “The only thing worse than being alone, the worst punishment a love goddess could think of. My punishment is to be alone and heartbroken. Every time I piece myself back together, the moment I feel as if my life is liveable again, the tides bring someone to my shore, and the cycle starts anew.”

Mark goes quiet in a way that Donghyuck has never seen, eerily still. His grip on the other’s hands tightens infinitesimally. When Donghyuck looks up at his face, the hero is pale with rage.

“The gods know they sentenced the wrong person,” he says quietly, and Donghyuck can tell it’s mostly to himself, “and they left you here anyway. Left you here to _suffer_ and didn’t do a damn thing—.”

“Mark.”

“Those _bastards_ —!”

“The gods can hear you here, Mark!” Donghyuck surges forward, clapping a hand over the other’s mouth, “They don’t often spare thought to Ogygia, but if you’re here they—!”

“Let them hear me!” Mark stands, striding out of the hut, “Let my father know that being his son is the greatest shame I have ever endured. Gods, you don’t deserve—!”

“Careful, little lion cub.” Donghyuck emerges from the tent to see a tall man in a suit standing by the fire pit. He notices with chagrin that this man has Mark’s smile. “If you were fathered by a different god, you would be in rather big trouble, talking like that.”

“Apollo.” Donghyuck bows. Mark pulls him back up, wrapping an arm around his shoulder so his hand rests against his heart. If he had any shame left, Donghyuck would be embarrassed at the way the gesture makes his heart race.

“Father.” Mark replies with a frosty bite to his voice. Donghyuck elbows him in the ribs, and while it elicits a small grunt, the hero doesn’t flinch.

“Now would be an opportune time for an apology, Minhyung.” The god quirks an eyebrow.

“It would be,” Mark spits back, anger still evident in his tone, “if I were inclined to offer one.”

“Well, I won’t hold my breath, then.” Apollo’s expression tightens, clearly more irked than he’s letting on. “Minhyung, you’re needed back in the mortal realm.”

“What’s happened?” The anger falls away, replaced with raw concern, “Yukhei and Jeno—?”

“Your friends are fine, son.” There is tenderness in the god’s eyes. He and his son look more alike like this, when he doesn’t look like a haughty prick. “They didn’t win the battle, but they made it out alive after you were carried away by the current.”

“Good.” The hero breathes, a moment of relief before he steels himself again. “Then what is it?”

“The underworld is gathering its forces again, they’re going to make another push toward Camp Halfblood. Without you, well,” Donghyuck watches a dark shadow pass over the god’s face, “it won’t matter, so long as you return as soon as possible.”

“But—!”

“The other demigods need you, son.” Apollo clearly holds himself back, but Donghyuck knows what he doesn’t dare speak. _They need you more than this nymph._

“You have to go, Mark.” Donghyuck pushes down his own feelings. If he knows anything about his hero, it’s that he won’t be able to live with himself, no matter what choice he makes. He will loathe himself for leaving, but he will loathe himself more if he stays. _Damn his stubborn, gilded heart._ “I’ll be fine, I’m safe here. Your friends need you now.”

“Father,” The demigod steps forward, sweeping Donghyuck behind him in one swift motion, “when am I absolutely needed?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mark—!” Donghyuck grabs his hand, but Mark shakes him off.

“Minhyung, the sooner the better—.” The god starts.

“When do I _absolutely_ need to leave?” Mark insists. His father stares at him for a moment, scrutinizing, before his gaze shifts to meet Donghyuck’s eyes where he peeks over Mark’s shoulder.

“Dawn.” He finally states, mouth thinned into a line. “You must leave at dawn, not a moment after the sun breaches the horizon, or you will be too late.”

“Mark _don’t_ , just go—!” Donghyuck cries.

“I will be sure to leave then, but not a moment sooner.” Mark’s shoulders drop, heavy with the weight of acceptance.

“You made the right choice, son.” Apollo steps forward, clapping a hand on Mark’s shoulder. It’s immediately brushed off.

“One of us has to.” Mark replies, his tone dripping with ice crystals. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten your complicity in this.”

“Regardless.” The god dismisses the accusation, but the heat in his eyes says that this will be discussed later, when he doesn’t need Mark’s cooperation in order to ensure the safety of his other children. “I’ll see you later, Minhyung. Donghyuck.”

In a bright flash, like sunlight reflecting off the surface of the ocean, the god is gone.

☼

Donghyuck has been left in the middle of the night, waking to an empty bed and an empty isle. He’s done sorrowful goodbyes, where both parties cry, heart-wrenching and tragic. He’s bidden stoic farewells to heroes who don’t care much for the dramatics. One thing he’s never done, however, is pack a bag.

“You’ll need water. Lots of it, I’m sure. There’s nothing worse than dehydrating while surrounded by water.” Donghyuck muses, setting aside some extra canteens as he flies around the hut, shoving things Mark probably won’t be needing into a suitcase that had once belonged to a different visitor, “Do you think one blanket is enough? It might get cold, and gods know your hands and feet are always cold at night. I had emergency flares wash up on the beach once, I should try and find—.”

“Donghyuck.” Mark sighs. It’s the first word he’s uttered in the hour that’s passed since his father’s departure.

“Can you fill up these canteens, please?” Donghyuck picks them up by the straps, thrusting them blindly toward where Mark is sitting on the cot, next to the suitcase. “I think I put the flares in the cupboard, but they’re behind some old bottles. Oh! I’ll make you a miniature medicine kit, just in case.”

“ _Donghyuck_.” Mark grabs his wrist, pulling him into his lap. “Settle down for a moment, love.”

“Don’t.” His voice sounds foreign in his own ears. “Please. Don’t call me that right now.”

“We need to talk.” Mark sighs, and a small, bitter part of Donghyuck wonders what right _he_ has to sound so weary.

“There’s nothing to talk about, you’re needed in the mortal realm, and I knew this would happen.” He tries to stand, but Mark holds him tighter. “Let me go.”

“Hyuck—.”

“It took me so long to be okay again,” Donghyuck breaks away, storming through the open doorway of his home, “and maybe if I knew you would remember me, that you would miss me as much as I miss you—!”

“What do you mean I won’t miss you? Of course I’ll miss you, but Donghyuck, I promised you I’m going to come back! You don’t believe me, but I will.” Mark grabs his wrist, spinning him around so they’re face to face. “I won’t leave you here.”

“You can’t come back, Mark.” Donghyuck snaps, yanking his arm away, “And that’s the best part of the curse. The fucking genius of it, that I am promised every single time that he will come back, that he swears he will return, but he can never find it again. Every hero who has ever left Ogygia has done it and never found a way back!” Silence follows, and Donghyuck watches as Mark’s face crumples into confusion.

“You didn’t tell me.” Mark gapes, betrayal crossing his expression. “You didn’t tell me I couldn’t—.”

“I didn’t want you to worry about it.” Donghyuck shakes his head, brushing away a stray tear, “But it’s true. You can only visit this island once, and never again. The curse accounts for how noble you heroes are.”

“You should have told me.” Mark frowns, running a frustrated hand over his face, “If I had some time to think about it, maybe…”

“I’ve had plenty of time to think about it,” the nymph shakes his head, “centuries, Mark. There’s no way to get out of it.”

The silence unspools between them, tangling around their throats, choking whatever words come to mind. It’s awful, really. Donghyuck stares at his feet, loathing himself for keeping the truth from Mark, for not being more strict with himself, for letting himself fall again—.

“You have steam coming out of your ears.” Mark quips, a sad smile twisting his mouth. “Tell me what you’re thinking, love.” Donghyuck releases a shaky breath.

“I wish things were different.” It’s not all of what he’s thinking, but it’s certainly not a lie. “I wish _I_ was different. Maybe then we could have met some other way.” Mark is quiet, but Donghyuck can feel the way his gaze is burning into him.

“We would have met at a music store.” Mark finally says, his voice hoarse. Donghyuck looks up, meeting his eyes. He clears his throat, continuing, “If the gods were a myth, if we were two normal people, if everything was the way it should be… We would have met at a music store.”

“Why a music store?” Donghyuck blinks back the tears pooling in his eyes. He will not cry.

“I don’t know.” Mark laughs once, his eyes brimming with _something_ that makes Donghyuck’s heart both sink and soar, “I just feel like… we would have met in a music-related way. I’ve heard the way you sing to yourself in the mornings, when you don’t think I’m awake yet. You would probably be a musician, if things were different.”

“Keep going.” Donghyuck takes the demigod’s hand, leading him past the fire, to the soft sands of the shore. “What’s our life like?”

“We become famous musicians.” Mark sits, pulling Donghyuck to his side, wrapping both arms around him as the waves lap the soles of their bare feet. “We travel the world together.”

“Multiple times.” Donghyuck smiles, leaning into Mark’s shoulder.

“As many times as you want.” Mark presses a kiss just behind his ear.

“Hmm.” It’s odd, the intermingling of joy and sorrow. Bittersweet. “Tell me more. Tell me all about us.”

☼

The sky is beginning to grow light when Donghyuck wakes up in Mark’s arms for the last time. He winces at the feeling of sand against his cheek, but soon brushes it off when he sees Mark is already awake. The nymph opens his mouth to speak, but finds himself lost for words. Mark’s eyes drift closed as he pulls Donghyuck in.

“I don’t want to leave.” He murmurs.

“You must.”

“I know.” Mark shakes nods, pressing a kiss just above Donghyuck’s brow, just firm enough to send another fracture shooting through his heart. “But I don’t want to.”

Donghyuck is sure, in a few decades, that this admission will bring him comfort instead of pain. For now, he pulls away, pressing a kiss to Mark’s lips.

“I’ll grab your bag.”

The brief moments away from Mark as he returns to his hut are pure darkness. He can feel it already. It’s not even pain, that’s the worst part. It’s just numbness. The pain will come tonight, when he returns to his cot that still smells like Mark, like sleep and fresh grass and happiness. He pushes away these thoughts, grabbing the suitcase from where he left it the night before, and sweeping past the curtain once more.

Mark stands the edge of the dock, silhouetted against the slowly illuminating sky. The raft has already appeared, as it always does. Donghyuck has often wondered if it ever failed to return a hero home, but he believes the gods would at least tell him that much. He has to believe that Mark will be okay.

“Here.” Mark startles slightly when he speaks, turning to see the nymph holding out the bag. “The canteens are full, everything is where it should be in there.”

“Thank you.” Mark nods, taking the luggage and setting it on the raft. The vessel bobs in the surf.

“I, uh.” Donghyuck clears his throat. He’s not going to cry. Not until he’s alone. “Be safe out there, okay? I know you demigods have a hero complex.”

“Donghyuck.”

“If not for yourself, then for me.” Donghyuck powers on, “Not that you’ll remember, but I… you better live a long and happy life, Mark Lee. Do all the things you told me about last night. Stop getting your ass handed to you in battle and washing up on random islands.”

“Hyuck.” Mark puts a hand on his shoulder, cutting off whatever bullshit he was about to spout to keep himself from crying. “Come here.”

Their last kiss tastes like salt. It tastes like stolen futures, ocean air, sunlight and smoke. Donghyuck knows when the sun breaches the horizon, when red light permeates his eyelids, and he gathers all his strength to shove Mark back, off the dock and onto the raft. It feels like something physically snaps in him when he opens his eyes to see his hero already drifting away.

“Goodbye.” He sobs.

“I love you.” Mark replies, his gaze steadfast and intense. “I love you, and I _will_ find you again, Donghyuck. I promise.”

“I love you, too.” Refuting the words won’t do any good for either of them. Still, Mark stands, gripping the sail.

“I promise, Donghyuck!” He has to raise his voice, he’s hit the current and the raft picks up speed. “On the River Styx, I will—!”

His blood runs cold, and before Donghyuck can cry a choked, “Don’t!” Mark is swallowed by the mists.

Donghyuck collapses on the dock, letting the waves lap at the soles of his feet. The tears come fast and hard, the heartbreak washing over him in a way that is both familiar and wretchedly new. 

☾

Mark washes up on Third Beach in Vancouver, Canada later that afternoon, disoriented and exhausted. The feeling of sand against his cheek is unwelcome, but for some reason, not unfamiliar.

“Jeno! Oh my gods, Jeno get over here right now!” With little warning, Mark finds himself being rolled over, a giant hand slapping his face gently.

“Yukhei—? Mark!” Jeno appears at Yukhei’s side, his head blessedly blocking out the sunlight.

“Gods, Mark, where have you been?” Xuxi’s eyes well up with tears, “We thought you died!”

“What happened?” Mark sits up, coughing.

“We were battling this bitchass water spirit.” Jeno rarely frowns, but now he’s outright glaring at the ocean. “We were doing pretty well, but then it swept you over the side of the deck and when Jaemin dove in after you, you were gone.”

“He’s helping Renjun fix up the boat now.” Xuxi tilts his head further down the shore, where indeed, the ridiculous pirate ship Renjun’s father Hephaestus had provided them with, was docked.

“Here, Xuxi, help him get back to the boat. I’m going to run ahead and let the others know.” Jeno squeezes Mark’s shoulder one last time before he breaks into a dead sprint toward the dock.

“Okay, Mark Lee.” Yukhei hoists him to his feet, steadying him before he can collapse. “I look forward to hearing all about how you survived falling overboard in the North Pacific, but please just tell me if you’re seriously injured or actively bleeding out first.”

“I don’t think so?” Mark shakes his head, running through his mental log of events. “How many days was I missing for, exactly?”

“Days? Dude, you’ve been gone, like, _maybe_ for one day.” Yukhei blinks.

“No, that’s… It’s been longer, hasn’t it?” Mark looks down, opening his hands to examine them. His right hand is stiff, and as he stretches it out, something falls to the sand at his feet. He reaches for it, nearly toppling over.

“Woah, let’s take it slow, alright? I got it.” Yukhei ducks down, and the small, unextraordinary piece of jewelry shines dully in the watery sunlight. It’s a simple silver pendant on a chain, but Mark doesn’t need to look closer to know it’s old.

“Why do I have this?” Mark plucks the chain from Xuxi’s palm, running a thumb over the pendant. His head throbs painfully and he doubles over. It’s nearly enough to mask the way just holding the necklace makes his heart pang with… _something_.

“Let’s get you back to the ship.” Xuxi insists, wrapping an arm around his friend to haul him the rest of the way down the beach. Mark looks back over his shoulder for a moment, just in time to watch the surge up past the sand, grabbing hold of the raft and pulling it back out to the tides. He glances down at the necklace gripped in his hand, and while he’s not sure _how_ , Mark knows that somehow, he needs to get back to the necklace’s owner.

☾

By the end of the week, the world is saved. Though battered, all of his friends survive the final battle in the Alaskan wilderness. It even ends with Yukhei personally throwing a titan back into the underworld with a move reminiscent of a WWE fighter. Mark sincerely hopes that, now that he’s eighteen, he can live his life in peace. He’s earned it, considering how many times since age twelve he’s had to stop supernatural creatures from fucking humanity over.

They barely get a decent night’s sleep before the summons arrives. Iris appears on the deck just as they’re about to set off on the pirate ship again, taking the scenic route back to Camp Halfblood through the Panama Canal.

“Does this mean we’re not going to the tropics?” Jaemin sighs.

“I’m afraid so.” The goddess laughs, handing each of them a golden drachma with Herme’s imprinted on it. “Aim for Olympus. Your parents want to have a chat.”

“What’s the point of saving the world if I don’t even get to _see_ it?” Renjun grumbles before disappearing in a flash of light. Like—.

Sunlight reflecting on the ocean.

Mark shakes his head, wincing at the way his head throbs in response to the memory fragment. All week he’d been experiencing the same, and while he couldn’t be sure, he knew he needed to ask his father about it sometime. Now was as good a time as any. He rubbed a thumb over Hermes’ visage, and when he opened his eyes again, he was in Olympus’ main court.

“Hello, Minhyung.” His father greets him, strangely guarded. The god wasn’t always forthcoming, but this… something was different, and Mark was willing to bet his sword that it had to do with the necklace.

“Welcome, brave heroes.” Zeus smiles warmly from his dais, Hera beside him watching impassively. Without demigod children of her own, she wasn’t too keen on them as a whole, Mark had come to realize. “Congratulations on another mission success. You’ve done us proud.”

“We need to talk.” Mark murmurs. His father lets out a quiet breath.

“You couldn’t wait until he was finished talking?” Apollo quirks an eyebrow toward the king of the gods, who was still droning on. Xuxi, at least, seemed to be paying attention to his father, but the rest of the party definitely looked like they were zoned out.

“No.” Mark shakes his head. “I get the feeling that you already know what I want.”

“I do.” His father admits

“And you don’t want to give it to me.” Mark doesn’t miss the flash of a smile on the god’s face.

“You’re exactly like your mother, you know that?” He huffs, clapping Mark on the shoulder gently. “It’s true. Giving you what you want is going to be quite difficult for me.”

“Need I remind you the countless times I almost died since you claimed me as your son?” Mark scoffs. “You kind of owe me.”

“Careful, little lion cub.” Apollo warns, and Mark rolls his eyes at the nickname. “I don’t owe you, but you have incurred my favor. You would do well not to change my mind before your grandfather has finished speaking.”

“Fine.” By some stroke of luck, Zeus takes that moment to stop talking, and Mark shoots his father a look as they belatedly join in the applause.

“Very well, then.” Apollo gestures toward an open archway leading to a garden that belongs on the cover of one of Mark’s mother’s home magazines. The god ushers him through the main plaza, past a fountain, toward a secluded corner. The olive tree branches shade them from the sunlight, and Mark leans against the trunk while his father takes a seat on the marble bench nearby.

“Did you wipe my memory?” Mark begins, and while he tries to reign in the anger in his voice, he can’t get over the betrayal he feels. “Don’t bother lying, I know I was gone for longer than a day. I have this scar on my side, I was injured. It looks like it needed stitches. I couldn’t have received a wound like that, healed, and then washed up in Canada twenty-four hours later.”

“I did not wipe your memory, but your memory is altered.” Apollo sighs. “But has it occured to you, my son, that maybe your memory is better this way? How are you so sure that the time you spent away from your friends wasn’t painful?”

“I don’t know how to explain it.” Mark huffs a sigh, hand wandering to his pocket where the chain lies safe. He rubs a thumb over the pendant, a gesture that’s brought him comfort many times since he washed up on Third Beach. “I wake up in the mornings and I don’t know what I dreamed about, but I… I’m missing something. Someone, and I think this necklace has something to do with it.”

Apollo’s eyes lock on the pendant as he pulls it from his pocket. The silver sways in the breeze, and Mark watches it with this strange bubble of emotion growing in his chest.

“Look, I know you said whatever happened to me… It’ll make your life complicated. I get that.” Mark takes a breath to steady himself. “But I also think you know that I’ve done everything you asked me since I first arrived at Camp Halfblood and I learned who I was. Do you think you could consider this a trade-off? I can’t explain it, but I know this is important. Please?”

“Minhyung…”

“I would also like to add on that my birthday was two weeks ago.” He presses on. “And surviving to adulthood, considering how many of these death missions I’ve been on, is kind of a big deal.”

“Okay, alright.” The god sighs, and Mark feels the pressure in his chest release. “Gods, Aprhodite is going to have my neck for this.”

“I’ll tell Jaemin to try and talk her down.” Mark sighs, relief flooding him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Apollo huffs, standing. He approaches Mark, placing a hand on the demigod’s forehead, “this won’t feel very good, I’m afraid.”

As soon as the words leave his father’s mouth, Mark doubles over. His head feels like it’s splitting in two, his vision goes dark, and he’s fairly certain he’s just been killed by his own father.

And then, sunlight.

Not real sunlight, of course. But in his memory, it warms his skin. He hears the gentle lapping of waves on the sand, and a voice like honey lilting on the breeze. He’s on an island, a small one, with just a hut, something that looks like a chicken coop, a vegetable garden, and a fire pit. Kneeling in the garden, dirt smeared across his cheek, sits a sunkissed boy, humming contentedly as he cares for the green poking out of the soil.

“ _Are you going to stare all day,_ ” the humming stops, but the boy doesn’t look up from his task, “ _or are you going to help, hero?_ ”

The boy lifts his gaze, his eyes meet Mark’s, and _oh_. A thousand different emotions fill Mark’s chest as the memories come flooding back. Donghyuck laughing at him, scolding him, caring for him. Kissing him. Crying over him.

Mark’s lashes are damp when he finally opens his eyes. He takes a breath to steady himself, stands, and faces his father.

“I’m going to need a couple more favors.”

☼

Donghyuck is lying in his cot feeling sorry for himself when the tides shift, whispering of return. He sits up, cautious. This isn’t how it works, they never send him a new one until he’s over the last, and he’s honestly begun to wonder if there will ever be another. Mark Lee, as it turns out, has been much more painful to move on from than the others.

The breeze tugs at the curtain over the door, and out of reflex, his hand flies to his throat. He hadn’t realized it until that evening, after Mark had gone, that his necklace was gone. He went poking around the dock the next day, but it was nowhere to be found. He winces, remembering how much it felt like salt in the wound, how he’d sat on the sandy shore and let the tears flow silently for hours, until the sun fell below the horizon. He had mustered just enough energy to rise, walk back to his hut, and collapse on the bed.

It had been weeks since then, and things weren’t much better. Still, he was in a stable enough place at the moment to at least go investigate. Maybe the tides had been kind, maybe it was the necklace.

Donghyuck’s eyes widened when he pulled aside the curtain to see a giant wooden ship at his tiny dock. The raft bobbed beside it, it’s sail waving pathetically in the breeze compared to the giant vessel.

The nymph studied the craft for a moment, wondering when in his life he had encountered the monstrous thing for the tides to be singing of return so loudly right now.

“Donghyuck!”

Time slows. He turns, sees a figure rapidly disembarking the giant ship.

 _This is too cruel a joke_ , he thinks. If this is a hallucination, if his mind is fulfilling his wishes, he’s not certain he will survive it.

But no, he’s here. Mark Lee lands in Ogygia’s white sands, stumbling with the impact of his drop from the ladder hanging off the boat. Donghyuck feels himself take one step forward, then two, and as Mark races up to meet him, he manages to surge forward just in time to land in the embrace he’s longed for every night.

“You’re here.” He breathes, clinging to his hero with all the strength he has. “You really did it. You came back.”

“I don’t know if you heard, but I swore on the River Styx.” Mark’s smile is audible, and he’s crushing Donghyuck to him in a way that feels like he’s rejoining all the broken pieces of his heart.

“You idiot!” Donghyuck pulls away to smack him, just for a moment, before hugging him again. “You can’t swear on the Styx so easily. There’s no way to remember Ogygia—!”

“I didn’t promise to remember.” Mark shakes his head, pulling away to dig through his pocket, “I simply promised to return your necklace.”

The pendant sways in the breeze, and Donghyuck admires the way the silver glints in the sunlight before he knocks Mark’s hand aside, surging forward to kiss him.

The first kiss after their last tastes like salt, sunlight, and promise.

“You found me again.” Donghyuck whispers when they break away, breathing shallow. “What shall you do with me, then?”

“Exactly like we planned.” Mark smiles, taking his hand. He gestures toward the ship, where several figures stand on the deck, waving and whooping. “We’ll make music, and we’ll see the world.”

☼

Donghyuck has been left in the middle of the night, waking to an empty bed and an empty isle. He’s done sorrowful goodbyes, where both parties cry, heart-wrenching and tragic. He’s bidden stoic farewells to heroes who don’t care much for the dramatics. He’s packed a bag.

One thing he’s never done, however, is leave.

It’s bittersweet, watching Ogygia fade into the mists. His home disappears from view, and from all sides, it’s nothing but ocean. The tides no longer whisper to him, the breeze is nothing but a breeze. The rest of the crew— Mark’s demigod friends, names introduced to him too fast to really grasp— bustle about the deck, pulling ropes and adjusting the wheel. This is the first time Donghyuck has been in the presence of more than one person in millennia. It’s overwhelming, for sure.

But then, a hand slips into his own, and Mark is there, smiling at him.

Donghyuck spares a last glance in the direction of his old home before squeezing the hand of his new one.

**Author's Note:**

> There is an epilogue coming for this eventually :)
> 
> Side note: I didn't forget Chenle, he's just not part of the demigod crew. He will be in the epilogue.
> 
> If you liked this, please consider leaving a kudos or a comment, it would really make my day.
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/jyancity) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/jyancity)


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